


Moments with Charlotte

by romeokijai



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Coming of Age, Developing Relationship, Developing Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Love, Now featuring smut, One Shot Collection, and Niles, and shipper aunt Nora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-11 17:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romeokijai/pseuds/romeokijai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of AU (no blackout) one-shots that explore various moments in Charlie's life - from childhood to adulthood - and the special moments she shares with Bass along the way.</p><p>Each one can be read independently, and the ratings for each one-shot will vary. </p><p>I. Winter (Rated G)<br/>II. Spring (Rated G)<br/>III. Summer (Rated T)<br/>IV. Fall (Rated E)</p><p>***COMPLETE***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Each of these one-shots might have a different rating. I think there will be four pieces in this collection (one for each season). Some will be longer than others. This first one is rated G.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five year old Charlie is super sassy and Babysitter!Bass isn't sure he can handle it.

 

Bass shudders as the frigid winter air slaps him in the face and then sinks into his lungs. His insides sting and burn and feel numb all at once; it’s a weird and terrible sensation, really, and he hates it.

He’s been standing on the Mathesons’ front porch for no more than fifteen seconds, but already, he feels like a human snow cone. He cups his hands over his mouth and blows into his palms, but it doesn’t help a damned bit.

God, he hates winter. He _really_ hates winter. And winters in Wisconsin can be the absolute worst. This one’s been especially bad; the snow and wind and ice have been relentless for weeks and show no signs of letting up anytime soon.

He knocks on the Mathesons’ front door – probably a bit too harshly – and impatiently waits for it to open. But even in his frozen misery, a small smile forms on his lips when he hears the muffled, exuberant giggling of a little girl and the pitter-patter of her tiny feet as they excitedly shuffle towards the front door.

“Uncle Miles! Uncle Miles!” Charlotte Matheson happily sings as she opens the door.

Her blue eyes are wide and eager, but only for a brief second, because as soon as she takes in the view before her, she realizes she’s been tricked.

“Bastian.” She frowns at the man who obviously isn’t her beloved Uncle Miles. “Where’s Uncle Miles?”

“He can’t make it, Charlotte. There’s too much snow, so your dad called me. Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.” Bass can hardly stand still as one shiver after another surges through his body. If the kid doesn’t let him in quick, he’s going to develop frostbite.

“I dunno.” She shrugs, her little shoulders jutting up to her ears and then back down. “ _Can_ you?” 

“Charlie, close the door! You’ll let all the heat out!” Her father yells from upstairs.

She’s about to close the door with Bass on the wrong side of it, but he quickly sticks his arm in the way and stops her.

“Charlie!” He barks out her nickname, and she knowingly giggles. Unlike everyone else, he only calls her Charlie when he’s upset or irritated with her. She knows this. And she does the same thing with him. Normally, he’s her Bastian. But when she’s pissed, he becomes Bass.

“You said it wrong,” she informs him as he forces his way into the house and quickly closes the door behind him.

“What? Your name?” He gives her a confused look before inhaling a deep, warm breath.

She absently tugs at one of her blonde braids and mischievously grins up at him. “Daddy says it’s not _can_ I. It’s _may_ I. Like, when I said: ‘can I have another pop-tart?’ And he said: ‘it’s not _can I_ , _may I_ have another pop-tart.’ You said it wrong.”

“Alright, fine.” Bass rolls his eyes and drops his overnight bag next to the coat closet. “ _May_ I come inside?” He teasingly asks, unbuttoning his parka.

“You’re _already_ inside!” She huffs in annoyance and pushes her braided pigtails behind her shoulders. “Bastian, you’re so silly.”

“Not nearly as silly as you, kid,” he chuckles. She’s five years old and 3000% sass. If she’s like this at five, Bass can only imagine what she’ll be like when she gets older.

She gives him a sulky expression and defiantly crosses her little arms over her chest.

Just then, Ben comes bounding down the stairs, his face looking panicked and apologetic. “Hey, Bass. Sorry to spring this on you at the last minute like this. I’m sure you have better things to do than hang out here tonight. It’s just that Danny’s not doing well at all, and Rachel really needs me to get down to the hospital as soon as possible. And Miles didn’t think he could get here for at least another hour and—”

Bass holds up a hand to silence the man’s nervous rambling. “Don’t worry about it, Ben. You guys are practically family. Seriously, I’m happy to help.”

Ben sighs in relief. “Thanks, Bass.” His eyes then trail down to Charlie, who has been carefully watching the exchange between the two men. “She’s already had dinner, but she’ll probably want a snack a little later. And she’ll probably try to twist your arm for some C-A-K-E, but she had some after dinner, so—”

“Daddy,” Charlie innocently interjects.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Why are you spelling out cake?”

Bass holds his breath in an effort to contain the laughter that suddenly wants to bubble out of him while Ben closes his eyes and tiredly rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

“You be nice to Bass, okay?” Ben tells her in a loving but stern tone. “I need to go, but he’s going to stay here and play with you till your mom or I come back.” 

She nods and stretches her arms up toward her dad.

Ben squats down till they’re eye-level and gives her a quick squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head. “Be good.”

“Okay, Dad,” she agrees.

Bass and Charlie stand side by side and watch as Ben exits the house, still looking rather frantic.

“So, kid…what do you wanna do?” Bass asks when it’s just the two of them.

“Hide-n-seek! You count!” She demands. And before he can even agree to her idea, she’s scurrying down the hall toward the family room in search of a good hiding spot. “You’re never gonna find me!”

He sighs and starts to count.

After several rounds of Hide-n-Seek, a game of freeze tag, and a few rounds of Battleship, the two companions settle on the couch with freshly popped popcorn, steaming mugs of hot cocoa, warm throw blankets, and Disney’s _Tangled_ on DVD.

Charlie has obviously seen the movie a million times, because she quotes at least ninety-percent of it while they watch. Bass laughs along, paying more attention to her and her character impersonations than to whatever’s actually happening on the screen. She’s too damned cute.

“Now what?” She asks when the end credits begin to roll.

Bass switches off the DVD player and TV. “Now it’s time for bed.”

She frowns. “Already?!”

“What do you mean _already_? I just let you stay up longer than your parents ever do.”

“But I’m not tired yet.”

“Too bad.”

“What are you gonna do?”

 “I’m gonna get ready for bed, too.”

There’s a certain sparkle in her eyes now, and it makes Bass want to melt.

“Are you sleeping over?” She expectantly inquires, her eyes silently begging him to say yes.

“Sure am.” He smiles and tucks some stray hairs behind her ear.

She sighs contentedly and scoots closer until she’s leaning her head on his arm. “Wanna sleep in my room?”

“Actually, I’m gonna stay in the guest room.”

“But why?” She looks disappointed.

“Because your bed’s too small for me.” He smirks. “Now go upstairs, brush your teeth, and put on your pajamas. I’ll be up in a few minutes to check on you.”

“Can I have some cake first?”

“Nope.”

“ _Please_ , Bastian?” She bats her blonde eyelashes at him.

“ _No_.” Damn it. She hasn’t even graduated kindergarten yet, and she’s already got that emotional manipulation thing down pat. She’s definitely Rachel Matheson’s child.

“Bastian….”

“Charlotte, your dad specifically said you couldn’t have more cake, remember? Besides, you just ate all that popcorn and drank an entire hot chocolate. Do you even have room for cake?”

She petulantly groans and slides down from the couch, ignoring Bass’s question as she heads for the stairs.

He quietly snickers when he hears her grumble something about how Miles would have let her eat extra cake.


	2. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen year old Charlotte writes a letter to her favorite Marine. Her favorite Marine writes back. Rated G.

__

_Dear Bass,_

_First of all, I’m sorry I haven’t sent you a letter in so long. I get lots of homework this year – 7 th grade kind of sucks! Also, I’m still playing soccer, which takes up a lot of my time, and I just started babysitting this kid who lives next door, so things have been really busy. Anyway, I’m making it my goal to write to you more often, because I know things are probably pretty tough in Iraq. I really hope you’re doing well and that everything with the war is going okay. I hope you’re staying strong. I miss you very much._

_I just finished reading **The Red Badge of Courage** by Stephen Crane for a book report. Did you ever read that book? My teacher encouraged me to read it. But I have to be honest. It was hard to read at times because it made me think of you. It made me wonder if you ever worry about having enough courage. Do you? I want you to know that you are the bravest person I know. You and Uncle Miles are both my heroes._

_My class is going to Washington D.C. next week. I seriously can’t wait! I have always wanted to visit the capital. Mom and Dad have gone there so many times for different business trips, but for whatever reason, I’ve never been able to go. I hear it’s really pretty there during the spring. My teacher showed us pictures of the cherry blossoms near the Jefferson Memorial, and I can’t WAIT to see it in person. Maybe someday, we can see it together. Wouldn’t that be awesome?_

_By the way, I’ve decided that history has become my favorite subject in school. I like English, too. But history is my favorite. You would be so proud!_

_Anyways, enjoy your care package. I sent you a copy of **The Red Badge of Courage**. You’ve probably already read it, though. If that is the case, you don’t have to read it again unless you want to. Also, I will try to send another care package really soon. When I get to Washington D.C., I’m going to buy some pretty postcards to send you. I’ll try to find one of the cherry blossoms._

_By the way, I sent an envelope with my address on it, in case you want to write back. I hope you do. I always look forward to your letters. But I know you’re busy. So I understand if you don’t have time to write back._

_Please be careful and come home soon. I miss you. I know I already said that. :) But I really do miss you._

_Love,_

_Charlie (Charlotte)_

_P.S. OMG, I almost forgot to tell you! I got my first suspension last month. It was only for a day, and I got it because I punched this idiot after he told me I throw a baseball like a girl. I told him: “Damn straight! And I throw punches like a girl, too!” And then I socked him. He ended up with a black eye. Oops! I have to admit. I felt pretty badass._

 

***

 

_Dear Charlotte,_

_Thank you for the letter and the care package! It was a really nice surprise._

_Life in Iraq is hard but okay. The days feel really long, but the people here are cool, and their company helps make it easier to be here. Plus, whenever I start to feel too discouraged, I just think of you and your family and all the people back home who are cheering for us. I can’t tell you how much it makes my day when I get your gifts and letters. So thanks for always thinking of me, and don’t even apologize for not being able to write more often. I’m sure you have a lot going on!_

_How’s your soccer team doing this season? I hope you’re maintaining your undefeated record. I miss coming to your games. And congratulations on the new babysitting gig. I hope the kid you’re watching isn’t half as much trouble as YOU were when I used to babysit you! Ha! Nah, who am I kidding? You were the cutest kid, ever. :)_

_I hope you had a great time in Washington D.C. with your class. Did you take tons of pictures? And did you get a chance to see Gettysburg?  And, last but not least, how were those cherry blossoms? I hope they were as beautiful as you imaged they would be. You’re right. The capital is beautiful during springtime. I’m so glad you got to experience that. It’s a memory that will last you a lifetime._

_Charlotte, I want to thank you for sending me your copy of **The Red Badge of Courage** and for expressing your concerns. That was truly very sweet of you. Yes, I have read this book before, but it’s been several years, so I’ll probably read it again in the near future. And maybe when I come back, we can talk about it. How’s that sound?_

_I am indeed glad to hear that History is your favorite subject! Though, honestly, I’m not surprised. I’ve clearly rubbed off on you. ;) Anyway, I’m glad to hear it, and that’s yet another thing we’ll have to discuss when I get back to America._

_I miss you terribly, but hopefully we’ll see each other soon. As always, thanks for remembering me and sending me these letters and gifts. They really do keep me going._

_Take care, work hard, and play even harder. Love ya, kiddo. Can’t wait to see you again!_

_Your Favorite U.S. Marine,_

_Bastian. ;)_

_P.S. You punched some kid and got yourself suspended? Sounds to me like he deserved it, though! And now he knows never to mess with Charlotte Matheson again, right? :) But hey, if he or anyone else gives you any more grief, you just mention you have a buddy in the Marines. Although, if I’m honest, it sounds like you can take care of yourself just fine! NOT that that surprises me. You’ve always been tough. And I’m sure you always will be._

_P.P.S. But all kidding aside...stay out of trouble, kid. No more getting suspended!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad everyone is liking this so far! It's been fun to write something like this. It's quite different from my usual stuff. :) Please leave a review!


	3. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eighteen year old Charlie reunites with Bass at Miles and Nora's summer wedding. Rated T(ish).

 

“I am _never_ getting married,” Charlie tiredly grumbles to herself while wrapping yet _another_ ribbon around yet _another_ tiny bottle of whiskey (Miles’s idea of the perfect wedding favor, naturally).

She loves her uncle and absolutely adores her soon-to-be aunt – who, really, is more like a big sister to her than an aunt, but helping them set up for their wedding has been downright exhausting.

It doesn’t help that the wedding is happening at the Mathesons’ house. Charlie has learned the hard way that it takes a lot of work to transform a suburban backyard into the perfect summer wedding venue. It helps even less that Charlie’s mother, Rachel, has appointed herself as the wedding coordinator. Half the time, Rachel doesn’t even listen to Nora – and Nora is the _bride_. But when Rachel gets an idea in her head, it’s pretty difficult to stop her.

Speak of the devil….

“How’s it going in here?” Rachel saunters into the kitchen with a box of fresh-cut lavender and sets it down on the kitchen table, not far from where Charlie is working. 

“Fine,” Charlie exhales morosely. “I’m almost done.”

“Good, ‘cause I need your help outside when you’re finished here. The guys aren’t back yet; Bass’s plane got delayed and Miles just decided that _now_ is the best time to go get a haircut, and I don’t even know where your dad ran off to, and those folding chairs and tables in the backyard aren’t going to set themselves up, so….”

Rachel rambles on and on, but Charlie’s only partially listening. Partly because she doesn’t care. But mostly because her mother just uttered _his_ name. And now Charlie is all distracted.

Bass. Sebastian Monroe: Charlie’s crush since…well, since she knew what a crush even was – and probably since before then.

Her parents and her uncle would kill her if they only knew the sorts of thoughts she has entertained involving the hunky Marine. But Charlie can’t help it. He’s the absolute epitome of sex, and the mere thought of him always makes her all hot and bothered.

“Charlie....”

“What?” She absently glances at her mom.

Rachel narrows her eyes. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Tables aren’t gonna set themselves up…Miles getting a haircut. Etcetera, etcetera. And I’ll help you when I’m done with these stupid favors.”  

Rachel sighs and busies herself with the box of flowers.

Just then, Nora struts into the kitchen with her phone stuck to her ear. “What do you mean he’s just going to miss the rehearsal?...I know it’s not his fault, but—” her face contorts into a frustrated scowl. “Okay, fine. Whatever. Just…hurry the hell up and get back…yeah, yeah, love you, too.”

Charlie snickers as Nora ends the call and groans in frustration.

“Everything okay?” Rachel asks.

“Miles just talked to Bass. He’s still stuck in Berlin and thinks there’s a small chance he won’t make it to the wedding…like, at all.” Nora’s expression is both sad and irate.

Charlie’s heart instantly sinks.

As annoyed as she’s been with all this wedding stuff, her reunion with Bass was the one part of this whole event she was genuinely looking forward to (it’s also the part she’s been most nervous about) – especially since he’s supposed to be the Best Man, and she, the Maid of Honor. Plus, she knows how devastated Miles will be if his best friend isn’t there to stand with him on his big day.

The last time Charlie saw Bass was five years ago, when she was an awkward thirteen year old with a huge schoolgirl crush on a man old enough to be her father. Bass, of course, viewed her as nothing more than a kid sister.

Charlie wonders how he’d view her today….

She used to write him letters while he was fighting the war in Iraq, and for a while, he wrote back (she still has all of his letters to her). But then the war got worse, and he stopped writing (not that she can blame him). And then he moved to Germany, where he’s been stationed for the past three years. During that time, they lost touch. And she grew up.

“Charlie!”

She whips her head up and again meets her mother’s impatient glower.

“What is with you today? You’re so distracted,” Rachel complains.

Charlie frowns and tries not to roll her eyes.

 

\- - -

 

Charlie stands in front of the floor length mirror in her bedroom and examines her appearance. Her hair, which inevitably turns more blonde during the summer, is twisted into an elegant side braid with a few, wispy tendrils crowning her face. Small pearl earrings sit against her earlobes, and a matching pearl necklace hangs around her neck. She’s wearing just a touch more make-up today than she usually does but not enough to look tacky or mask her natural beauty.

Her hand slides down the front of her strapless, antique rose-colored lace dress that hugs her curves and stops just above her knees, showing off her tanned, long legs that have gotten a lot of sun this summer. Her toes are painted the same color as her dress, and a pair of strappy, open-toe, gold heels adorn her feet.

Overall, she’s happy with her look. She really hopes Bass is happy with it, too.

He never did make it to the wedding rehearsal or the rehearsal dinner last night, but Miles has assured everyone that his Best Man _will_ be at the wedding – which is in less than two hours, Charlie realizes, as she glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand.

A gentle knock on her door causes her to break from her thoughts and crane her head away from the mirror.

“Come in,” she says.

Miles cracks the door open and pokes his head inside. “Hey, kid.”

Charlie’s face brightens with a smile. “Hey, yourself.”

“Well…look at you. You clean up real nice.” Miles opens the door a little more and enters her room.

“Thanks.” She grins. “You, too. But just wait till you see Nora. She’s gorgeous.”

“I know, I tried to go in there, and your mom kicked me out,” Miles chuckles and fiddles with his tie. “God, I hate this monkey suit.”

Charlie snickers. “Well, for what it’s worth, you look good. Nora's gonna love it.”

“Thanks, kid.” He winks. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go track down my Best Man. Who _still_ isn’t here.”  

“He’ll be here, right?” Charlie tries her hardest to sound teasing and indifferent.

“If he isn’t, I’ll kill him,” Miles replies.

“Not if I kill you first,” a familiar, raspy voice rebuts from the doorway.

Charlie’s breath instantly catches in her throat. That voice. It’s been five years, but she’d know that voice anywhere.

“There he is!” Miles practically guffaws and throws his arm around his best friend, pulling him into Charlie’s room.

She watches with held breath as the two men she admires most share a long, overdue hug. Her eyes linger on one of those men in particular – the one who hasn’t even noticed her yet.

But she has certainly noticed him.

He looks phenomenal. A million times better than she remembers him. He has a stubbly beard now and his curly, brown hair is longer than it used to be; at the moment, it’s neatly styled with just the right amount of gel. He wears a suit that’s very similar to the one Miles is wearing, but it looks about a thousand times better on him; Charlie can tell that underneath those layers of fabric, his body is toned and hard in all the right places. He looks older – _is_ older, his features more defined and less boyish and ultimately, much, much sexier.

Charlie feels an unavoidable ache between her legs.

“Sorry I’m late, brother,” he sincerely apologizes to Miles as they pull apart and simultaneously clasp each other’s shoulders in that weird man hug thing that guys often do. “The last leg of that flight was a bitch.”

“Trust me, you didn’t miss much. Just Rachel’s craziness,” Miles informs him with a smirk.

“Some things never change, right?” He throatily chuckles, and the sound makes Charlie’s stomach fill with butterflies.

She swallows when his electric blue eyes casually flit over to her. And then she nearly combusts when he does a double take and then smiles at her, his eyes widening with recognition.

“No way….” His hand drops from Miles’s shoulder, and he slowly shakes his head while continuing to look her up and down. “Charlotte?!”

She silently nods and bites her bottom lip while cursing her face when her skin betrays her with a blush.

“God, look at you!” He walks right over and, before she even realizes what’s happening, throws his arms around her.

Her eyes bulge and she prays Miles doesn’t notice but brings her arms around to rest on Bass’s back. He holds her close for what feels like a lifetime, his deliciously firm body stuck to hers like glue, and she has to stop herself from moaning when the mesmerizing scent of his cologne invades her nostrils. She has imagined these embraces for five full years, and yet the imagined version pales in comparison to the real thing. She wants to melt – and, to some degree, does, right into his embrace, without even noticing.

Bass finally pulls back and places his large hands on her bare shoulders, eyes blue and curious. But then he frowns.

Charlie’s expression involuntarily mirrors his. “What?”

He shakes his head. “How old are you now, kid?”

She rolls her eyes. “Eighteen. Just had a birthday last week.”

There’s a certain flash of…well, _something_ …in his eyes that makes Charlie’s insides tremble, but before she can actually identify the look, it’s gone. He smirks then and gives her shoulders an almost paternal squeeze before releasing his grip and dropping his hands.

“Way to make an old man feel even older,” he teases.

She smiles and shrugs and is about to say something snarky, but her mother appears in the doorway just then and interrupts the moment.

“What are you guys still doing up here?” Rachel barks. “The photographer’s waiting in the backyard. Let’s go!”

 

\- - -

 

The simple ceremony takes place right at sunset. Many of the guests shed joyful tears as Miles and Nora declare their love and make a life-long commitment to each other. And, of course, Miles, being Miles, manages to make everyone (except maybe the priest…and Rachel) laugh with his less than eloquent vows that somehow involve more than just a few curse words.

As she stands beside Nora, Charlie frequently steals glances at Bass. Every now and then, his eyes catch hers, and he smiles. And her stomach quivers.

Later, at the reception, while she’s sitting at one of the empty tables, admiring the party and the glowing newlyweds, she once again catches his gaze.

He looks perfect and relaxed under the twilight sky. Tie and suit jacket discarded some time ago, he has unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt and has rolled up his sleeves, revealing the firm, tanned skin of his veiny forearms, which beautifully contrast his white shirt.

Damn. He’s just too gorgeous. Too real. Too forbidden. Too…everything she’s ever wanted.

She watches, bottom lip anxiously trapped under her front teeth, as he approaches her.

“Wanna dance?” He offers her his hand.

That glint she noticed in his eyes for a mere second up in her bedroom is back, and this time, it’s not going away. It causes her heart to stutter and skip.

“Sure.” She places her hand in his and lets him pull her to her feet.

He leads her to the portable dance floor just as the band starts to play an acoustic cover of Lifehouse’s _You and Me_.

 

_What day is it? And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive._

_I can’t keep up, and I can’t back down._

_I’ve been losing so much time…._

 

_‘Cause it’s you and me, and all of the people_

_With nothing to do, nothing to lose._

_And it’s you and me, and all of the people,_

_And I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of you._

 

Her skin tingles beneath the fabric of her dress when he places his hand on the small of her back and pulls her close. This time, there’s nothing paternal about his touch.

“You know, I think the last time I danced with you, we were at a wedding, too,” he says, leading her in a gentle sway. “Except, last time, you were small enough to stand on top of my shoes.”

An embarrassed smile threatens her lips. “I vaguely remember that. I was, what…three? Four, maybe?”

He smiles back, dimples puncturing his scruffy cheeks and the corners of his eyes crinkling up in the most delightful way.

God, age really has done wonders for him, Charlie muses.

He doesn’t say anything – just watches her with that impossibly blue gaze that she’s been in love with for as long as she can remember.

Then he gently pulls her closer. And she lets him.

 

_All of the things that I want to say just aren’t coming out right._

_I’m tripping on words; you’ve got my head spinning._

_I don’t know where to go from here._

 

_‘Cause it’s you and me, and all of the people_

_With nothing to do, nothing to prove._

_And it’s you and me, and all of the people,_

_And I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of you._

 

“I think you might have even proposed to me that night,” he eventually says, his voice low and knowing.

Her cheeks instantly redden. She remembers. “Yeah, well, I was four years old. I just wanted an excuse to wear a pretty, white dress,” she teases. “Had nothing to do with you.”

“Ouch. I see how it is,” he chuckles, his chest vibrating against hers.

“Although, if I remember correctly, I’m pretty sure _you_ said yes,” she reminds him.

Now it’s his turn to blush. He chuckles again, almost nervously this time. “Did I?”

She nods, an accomplished smile on her lips. “Pretty sure.”

 

_Something about you now_

_I can’t quite figure out._

_Everything she does is beautiful._

_Everything she does is right._

_‘Cause it’s you and me, and all of the people_

_With nothing to do, nothing to lose._

_And it’s you and me, and all of the people,_

_And I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of…_

 

_You and me, and all of the people_

_With nothing to do, nothing to prove._

_And it’s you and me, and all of the people,_

_And I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of you._

He’s staring again, and there’s _definitely_ nothing paternal about the way he’s looking at her. In fact, his gaze has turned a bit somber. And if Charlie didn’t know better, she’d say hungry.

She feels that familiar jolt of heat between her thighs when his eyes suddenly flutter down to her mouth.

He’s not…thinking about… _is_ he? That can’t be right. He’s…Bass. And she’s Charlie.

But her suspicions are further confirmed when his tongue briefly juts out and wets his lips.

Her heart threatens to beat right out of her chest, and she’s certain he can feel it against his own, when he quickly glances around at the other guests, as if to make sure that the coast is clear, before bringing his gaze right back to her lips.

His face inches closer.

“Bass?” She barely utters, her voice so whispery she hardly recognizes it.

He doesn’t answer.

And she doesn’t bother to speak again. Because the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. His firm, perfect, whiskey-spritzed lips. Are on hers. _Hers_. He’s kissing her. Oh, God, Sebastian Monroe is actually, for real, this-is-not-some-blissful-dream kissing her. 

_What day is it? And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive._

And then it’s over. Just like that. The song. The kiss. The dance. All of it. Over.

Her eyes are the size of saucers as she looks up at him.

“Thanks for the dance, Charlotte.” He smiles, winks, and lets go of her.

Charlie watches in stunned silence as he walks away to dance with Nora. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review!! I have to thank @tonyaarroyo13 for (loosely) inspiring this; I know I didn't go the prom route, but I really liked the image of Charlie and Bass dancing together, and your prom idea definitely influenced this.


	4. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nineteen year old Charlie goes over to her aunt and uncle's house for the weekend. A surprise visitor drops by, and the night takes an unexpected, sexy turn. Rated E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a HUGE apology to all my readers for the delay of this final one-shot/chapter for this series. I had every intention of posting this a lot sooner, but life got really hectic for a while - health problems, being swamped at work, etc. - and it resulted in a long bout of writer's block. 
> 
> Second, JaqofSpades and iwilltry_tocarryon deserve lots of virtual love for this chapter because they both, being the angels that they are, helped me with this. iwilltry_tocarryon gave me some great ideas and overall moral support, and JaqofSpades beta'd multiple drafts of this. A big, thankful shout out to them!! You ladies rock! :D

Piles of multicolored leaves crunch beneath Charlie's worn leather boots as she drags herself across the University of Illinois quad at the end of an exhaustingly long week.

Why on earth did she let her academic advisor talk her into taking extra credits this term? At the time of registration, it seemed like a perfectly good idea (especially the part about graduating a semester - or maybe even a year - early). But now that Charlie is a little more than a month into Autumn Semester of her sophomore year and neck deep in homework, she’s beginning to question her choices.

Still, she can’t really complain. She loves her college experience so far; loves the freedom of living on her own for the first time - in Chicago, no less, in all its loud, vibrant glory.

Plus, Miles and Nora live here.

Charlie is just about to enter her dorm building when her phone rings. She pulls it out of her back pocket and immediately giggles at the photo she uses as her uncle’s caller ID; it’s a picture of his scowling face covered in white frosting (courtesy of his wife) during the cake cutting portion of his and Nora’s wedding reception last year.

“Hey, Miles,” she’s still giggling when she answers.

“Where the hell are you, kid? I’ve been parked in front of your building for the past 15 minutes.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Relax. I just need to run upstairs to my room and grab my stuff.”

“Fine. Just hurry it up.” Miles sounds impatient - even more so than usual.

“What’s the rush?”

“You have no idea. There’s a Stepford Wife at the house, and I need to get back so I can perform an exorcism on her. And you’re gonna help me.”

“An exorcism? On a Stepford Wife?” Charlie snorts. “Those two movie references don’t even go together.”

Miles isn’t amused. “Just go get your shit.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you at the car.”

Charlie races up to her room and grabs all the things she usually takes over to Miles and Nora’s house on the weekends: extra clothes, some homework, and her hamper of dirty laundry. Then she heads down to where Miles is parked.

“Took you long enough,” he grouses when she shuffles over to his car and starts piling her belongings onto the back seat.

“Aww, nice to see you, too,” she retorts with an over-exaggerated smile.

“Ah, hell, now what?” Miles mutters when his phone begins to vibrate. He hits the speakerphone button and sighs just as Charlie climbs into the passenger seat and straps on her seatbelt. “Hi, Honey.”

“Hi, Nora!” Charlie chimes in.

“Hi, Charlie.” Nora’s pleasant voice fills the cabin of the car. “Hey, listen. Can you guys stop at the store on your way back? I forgot something when I was there earlier.”

Charlie silently watches, amused, as her uncle rolls his eyes.

“What do you need?” Miles tiredly rubs his forehead.

“I forgot to get the quinoa.”

“What in the hell is _quinoa_?” He sounds thoroughly confused and a little bit repulsed.

“It’s a grain,” Nora explains. “I need it for this new salad recipe I’m trying.”

“Okay, first off – salad?” Miles grimaces. “Why are you making me eat salad? More importantly…why are you putting weird shit in it?”

“Two seconds ago, you didn’t even know what it was. And now it’s weird?” Nora quips.

“Hey, I like quinoa.” Charlie shrugs.

Miles quickly shoots her an unamused frown.

“See?” Nora, however, sounds pleased. “Charlie likes it. And I like it. So end of discussion. See you guys soon!”

“Ok, wait a sec—aaaand she hung up.” Miles shakes his head.

 

\- - -

 

“Mmm…something smells amazing,” Charlie announces as she walks into the kitchen, quinoa in hand and a grumbling uncle in tow.

Nora is at the counter, mashing up a bowl of boiled red potatoes. Her face lights up when she sees Charlie. “Hey. Thanks for stopping at the store.”

“Of course.” Charlie hands over the ingredient and then plops down on a barstool near the island. “But I have to ask. What’s with the fancy dinner? And since when do you cook on Friday nights?”

“I dunno. Guess I’m just tired of pizza. And Chinese take out.” Nora pours some milk into the potatoes.  “And c’mon. Grilled salmon hardly counts as fancy.”

“Hey, I live on a college campus. Anything that isn’t cereal or Top Ramen qualifies as fancy in my book.”

“Fair point,” Nora laughs.

“So, do you need help with anything?” Charlie offers.

“Hey, traitor. You’re supposed to be helping me.” Miles reminds her.

“Oh, right.” Charlie nods. “Stepford Wife. Exorcism. Back up.”

“Excuse me!” Nora raises a questioning eyebrow at her husband. “I am not a Stepford Wife, thank you very much.”

“What?” A playful smirk threatens his lips and he walks over to the fridge to retrieve a beer. “Charlie, you should have seen this place earlier. It looked like the fucking Tasmanian devil had ripped through it, or—actually, it looked a helluva lot like your mom’s kitchen when she tries to cook.”

“Hey!” Nora threateningly points her potato masher at Miles. “Do not compare me to Rachel; I’m not nearly that crazy.” She pauses and looks at Charlie. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Charlie shrugs. She loves her mother, but even Charlie knows that Rachel can be a bit insane, especially when it comes to her cooking endeavors.

“Speaking of your mom,” Nora goes on. “Would she completely kill us if we ditched Thanksgiving dinner at your house this year?”

Charlie frowns. “You’re planning on ditching Thanksgiving dinner? Why? You guys are basically the saving grace of those horrible Matheson Family gatherings.”

“Can’t argue there.” Miles takes a swig of his beer and leans against the counter.

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to ditch with us,” Nora clarifies. “One of my coworkers owns a cottage in Aspen and is willing to let us use it that weekend. What do you think? Wanna go skiing with us?”

Charlie tries to act calm and casual when Nora mentions Aspen. Aspen, as in Aspen, Colorado. And Colorado, as in…Bass Monroe’s current place of residence. Or, at least, it was the last time Charlie checked.

Nora doesn’t even mention Bass, and Charlie has no idea if him joining them for Thanksgiving is even a remote possibility, but her mind instantly conjures up all sorts of delightful scenarios that involve her, her favorite Marine, a snowy cabin in the woods, and various methods of keeping each other warm - all of which require the shedding of clothes.

“Sounds like fun. I’m in.” Charlie tries not to smile too hard. “But you guys will probably have to help convince my mom to let me skip family Thanksgiving.”

“Perfect,” Miles grunts. “If Rachel has her way, we’ll all be dead before we even make it to Aspen.”

Nora and Charlie both giggle at Miles’s statement.

Their conversation is interrupted by a sudden knock on the front door.

“Who the hell is that?” Miles scrunches his brow and glances over at Nora. “We’re not expecting anyone else, are we?”

She shrugs and looks to Charlie. “Do you mind getting that?”

“Sure.” Charlie hops down from her barstool and heads to the door.

She’s not really sure why she doesn’t bother looking through the peephole first, but the fact is, she doesn’t. She just unassumingly swings the door open.

And then freezes.

Eyes wide, breath held in order to smother the moan that suddenly wants to escape, knees threatening to buckle as she stares into the majestically rugged face of the sexiest man alive.  

“Bass?” His name leaves her lips in a shaky breath.

What’s he _doing_ here? In Chicago? What happened to Colorado?

It’s been just a little over a year since she last saw him. Their last encounter was at Miles and Nora’s wedding, actually. (That crazy, crazy night when he randomly kissed her. For like five seconds. And then disappeared for more than twelve months, the bastard!)  

Of course, he’s not entirely to blame for their lack of communication over the past year. Part of it was due to the physical distance that comes with living in two totally different geographic locations. The other part was the fact that she didn’t exactly make a lot of effort to keep in touch with him. But in her defense, she was busy with school and adjusting to life in Chicago.

She wonders if his excuse is as flimsy.

“Hello, Charlotte.” He finally nods at her, his soft, nonchalant tone breaking her from her reverie.

She instantly bristles. On the inside, at least.

So _that’s_ how he wants to play?

On the outside, she vows to shoot for dismissive as well and thus produces a massively fake smile and imitates every UIC sorority sister she’s ever wanted to strangle.

“Sebastian!” She hums. “What on earth are _you_ doing here?”

She watches as his lips curl into a devastatingly gorgeous smirk that instantly starts a fire between her legs.

Bass stares down at his shoes for a second and then says something, but Charlie doesn’t hear a damned word because she’s suddenly too busy drinking in the sight of him as he stands there, looking fifty shades of fuckable.

His hair and beard have grown to a deliciously sexy length, and his blue eyes are bright and warm behind a perfect pair of Wayfarer frames. (Jesus, when the hell did he get glasses?! And why – no, _how_ – are a stupid pair of glasses making her panties wet?!) Between the specs and the smile and the soft brown cardigan he’s wearing, he looks like a super sexy professor.

Damn.

“So…you gonna make me stand out here all night, or can I come in?”

It’s a simple question, but it yanks Charlie out of her lustful stupor. She breathes out a sigh in an effort to recover.

Then, out of nowhere, a distant memory from her childhood fills her head. She smirks and places a sassy hand on her hip. “I don’t know, _can_ you?”

He knowingly chortles and replies without missing a beat. “Fine... _may_ I come in, Charlotte?”

“Of course you may, Bastian.” She beams and steps back to let him through.

“Who’s at the—wait, what the…?” Miles joins them then and fails to even finish his question before he lets out a surprised laugh, clearly taken aback by the unexpected appearance of his best friend on his doorstep.

Bass’s smile immediately widens as he embraces Miles in a warm hug. “Hey, brother.”

“Good. You’re here.” Nora comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She doesn’t seem even slightly surprised to see Bass. “Perfect timing. Dinner’s just about ready.”

“Wait, huh?” Miles gives her a confused look. “You knew he was coming over?”

“Well, yeah.” She innocently shrugs. But her expression is far from innocent. “I mean, that’s generally how it goes when you invite someone over for dinner.”

“Surprise.” Bass grins.

Miles turns to Charlie. “Did you know about this?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just as surprised as you are.” Then she looks at Nora with a raised eyebrow. “So is this why you made a fancy dinner?”

“Are you kidding me?” Nora’s deep brown eyes flicker with mischief. “I wouldn’t do all that just for Monroe.”

“Oh. Real nice, Nora.” Bass rolls his eyes.

“What?” Nora snickers. “Anyway, who’s hungry?”

The four companions soon assemble around the dinner table, and Charlie tries to keep both her smile and her sexual frustration in check when Bass settles into the chair beside hers and drapes his arm over the back of her chair.

 He slyly leans closer and the familiar muskiness of his cologne immediately fills Charlie’s nostrils. Oh _God_ , there’s that unquenchable urge to moan again. Between his close proximity, his rich, masculine scent, and the blatant heat that’s radiating off of his perfectly lean form, she’s left with no other choice but to suck in a breath and crush her thighs together in a pathetic attempt to subdue the throb that’s growing between her legs.

She wonders if he knows what he’s doing to her. Her gut tells her he is perfectly aware.

She’s right in the middle of wondering how in the hell she’ll survive the rest of dinner when the jackass reaches under the table and strategically brushes his hand along her jean-clad thigh but doesn’t even blink in her direction and goes right on talking to Miles about…well, whatever they are talking about. Charlie’s not exactly listening.

Goddamnit!  

She sighs, certain her face is as bright as red flame, and quickly pours herself a glass of iced water, then drains the entire thing in a few angry gulps.

“Thirsty?” Bass chuckles at her.

She doesn’t say anything and kicks his foot.

Eventually, she calms downs, and he manages to behave himself for the remainder of the meal.

It’s then that Charlie (and Miles, too, for that matter) learns the real reason for Bass’s surprise visit. Thanks to Nora, who works for Boeing’s defensive division, Bass has scored an interview at the multinational manufacturing giant’s corporate headquarters. If all goes well, he’ll be leaving Colorado and relocating to Chicago in a matter of weeks.

“So, basically, if I get the job, I’ll be around to torture you all the time, kid.” A mischief smile tugs at his lips as he winks at Charlie.

“Oh, goodie.” She rolls her eyes and tries not to ruminate on his use of the word _kid_.  

“Charlie, you should show Bass that paper you’ve been working on for your history class.” Nora stands and begins to collect the empty plates. Then she turns to Miles. “You wanna help me clean up?”

“Not particularly, but I will. Especially if they’re gonna start rambling about boring Civil War stuff.”

“Hey.” Bass defensively snaps his fingers at his buddy. “The Civil War is not boring.”

“Ok, nerd,” Miles chuckles and follows Nora into the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t want more help?” Bass calls after them.

“Nah, we got this!” Nora hollers back.

Bass sighs and turns back to Charlie, eyebrows raised in genuine interest. “So you’re taking a class on the Civil War?”

“Well, it’s a general U.S. History survey class, but I decided to write a paper about the Civil War.”

“My kinda girl.” He nods, clearly impressed.

Charlie smirks at his flirting and watches as he licks his lips. He seems turned on, which is weird; they’re not even talking about anything remotely sexual.

And then, as she’s sitting there staring into his perfectly azure eyes, the mental image comes from God knows where and pummels right into her. She suddenly imagines Bass Monroe dressed in a Civil War General’s uniform. And damn it. Her panties are wet again.

“So…this paper.” She clears her throat and practically shoots out of her seat. She hears him snicker under his breath but ignores him and heads to the living room, where she’d dropped off her book bag earlier.

He quietly follows.

“Shit.” She turns around and frowns at him after rummaging through her bag.

He frowns, too. “What’s wrong?”

She pushes her fingers through her hair. “I left one of my books at my dorm. And I really need it for an assignment I have to finish this weekend.”

“So go back and get it.”

“I would, but I didn’t drive here. Miles picked me up.”

“Oh.” He nods slowly, as if assessing the situation.

And apparently, that’s not the only thing he’s assessing.

Charlie bites her bottom lip and watches as his eyes rake over her form, stopping briefly on the tiny sliver of tan skin that peaks out from just below the hem of her shirt.

God, he’s not even trying to be subtle!

Finally, his hot gaze settles back on her face. “I could give you a ride back to campus, if you want.”

She feels a tightening in her gut but responds as calmly as she can. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

\- - -

 

Charlie feels the tiniest inkling of relief when Bass finally parks the car in front of her dorm building. The ride back to campus was pure torture for her, riddled with thick sexual tension, and she is in desperate need for some air and a moment to clear her head and gather her bearings.

It scares her just how badly she wants to fuck Bass. She’s wanted to for years, sure, ever since she learned what sex even was. But tonight, the urge is unbearable, like a terrible itch that just won’t go away, no matter how hard she scratches. And she’s frightened that if she indulges that itch - looks at him too long, lets her hand brush his - she won’t be able to stop until she’s begging him to fulfill it completely.

She glances across at him and wonders if he has any idea of the turmoil he has created. His cheery smile almost makes her groan. Nope.

Then again, how can he? Bass ‘manwhore’ Monroe has never had to wonder if a woman actually wants him, let alone had to deal with the likelihood that she might just laugh, and push him away, and call him kid. Sure, he’d kissed her, but, for all she knows, it could have been a joke. Or just a moment. Not something real.

Or what if it was something? Became something? Was she really ready for that, some secret part of her wanted to know. Because this was Bass, her uncle’s best friend, weddings and Thanksgivings and Christmases and weekends in Aspen and….

Her knees start to knock together, right when she decides to bolt.

“I’ll be right back.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car, fully prepared to leave him there while she runs up to her room to grab her book. (It crosses her mind that maybe she should also take care of the need between her thighs while she’s up there.)

Bass, however, seems to have other ideas.

“What are you doing?” She glares at him when he climbs out of the car.

“What?” He shrugs. “Come on. I’m curious to see where you spend your time these days. You know, now that you’re a big college kid and all.”

And there it is. The _kid_ comment. Again.

That’s the second time tonight he’s called her that, and whether it was intentional or just a habitual slip of the tongue, it sets her off.

“I’m 19, Bass. Not a kid.” Her icy blue gaze locks with his. “And I’m pretty sure you know that.”

He drops his head and takes a deep breath, then looks up, almost apologetically.

His expression is soft. Not taunting or snarky, like she’d expected.

It catches her off guard.

Suddenly, she feels heat in her cheeks and knows she’s blushing. Damn it! She watches as he shrugs.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he says. “But….”

_But?_

She is not ready to deal with his buts, not when she’s still wet for him, and oh God, so embarrassed. And pissed off. And really fucking horny.

So, instead of letting him finish, she ignores him completely and heads for her building.

Bass is hot on her heels. “Charlotte, wait.”

She doesn’t.

She marches straight into the building and up to her second-floor dorm room.

“Damn it, Charlie. Hang on a minute!”

He follows her into the room, and she doesn’t try to stop him, but she also refuses to look at him. She waves a flippant hand in his direction and walks over to her bookshelf.

“You really didn’t need to come up here. My room’s not all that exciting. And the book I need is literally right—”

He pounces, and she doesn’t even realize what’s happening until her back hits the bookcase and she finds herself staring up into his stormy face.

“—here.”

The book in her hand falls to the floor.

She feels her breath hitching as she looks up at him, telling herself not to take this the wrong way - to calm the fuck down.

He moves in even closer till his body is practically melded to hers. “You’re right.”

“What?” She squeaks and then mentally curses herself for offering such a pathetic response.

He licks his lips and glances down at her mouth. Then slowly rolls his hips forward. “You’re not a kid anymore.”

Shit. Even through their layers of clothing, she can feel his growing erection against her belly. Her body buzzes in response, and her heart and mind both start to race.

But what if this is all just some twisted game to him? Or some strange power move or something? She’s not about to let this go any further until she knows it’s not.

“So then why do you call me that?” She demands.

He doesn’t answer. Just inches closer.

Charlie sucks in a shaky breath but somehow still manages to repeat her question – because, damn it, she needs to know. “Why do you call me kid?”

“Denial, I suppose,” he finally admits, his warm breath caressing her lips.

“Denial of what?”

His lips graze hers, beard tickling her flushed skin, but he doesn’t fully close the distance between them.

“The fact that you grew up,” he quietly rasps against her mouth. “And the fact that I’m not sure we should be doing this, but….”

“But?”

“I want you anyway.”

He’s so close now that her entire body is in agony. Her nipples are hard, her sex is wet and throbbing, and her bones are threatening to melt beneath her sweltering skin.

And so Charlie Matheson does the only thing she can think to do in that moment. She grabs fistfuls of Bass Monroe’s cardigan, yanks him even closer, and smashes her mouth into his.

It happens so quickly that she doesn’t even have time to talk herself out of it. But that doesn’t seem to matter because Bass is right there with her, without a single protest, or a speck of hesitation. Just complete surrender to the moment. Fire and force and lust. Lips and teeth and tongue.

His hands are suddenly everywhere – squeezing her slender hips and tangling in her long, golden hair, palming her clothed, heaving breasts, and grasping at her jean-covered ass.

Her fingers twist into his hair, harsh and needy, before blazing a trail down his back to yank his shirt free of his pants.

At one point during their frenzied exchange, his glasses get knocked off. Charlie squeaks in apology as she nearly steps on them, but Bass simply kicks them out of the way before attacking her mouth again.

They stumble over to Charlie’s bed, and she’s still sliding backwards on the mattress when he starts pulling off her clothes.

Her shirt, boots, socks, and pants go flying, followed by his cardigan and t-shirt; and then his mouth dives into the valley of her breasts, tongue slithering and beard scraping against her feverish flesh, while his hands slide under her back to unclasp her bra.

She moans and arches upwards when his mouth surrounds a hard, aching nipple. He gives it a long, generous suck while cupping her other breast with his hand. He twists and twirls the sensitive, pink pebble between his fingers, then kneads her globe with firm, steadfast squeezes. Then he alternates sides and begins all over again.

Charlie has no idea how he’s doing it, but his actions are somehow both rough and tender, carnal and sweet, and the result is a wave of warmth, wonderful and terrifying, that rushes through her insides.

Then he nips sharply, and she feels an electric jolt of pleasure that goes straight to her clit.

“Bass!” She hisses between sharp, shaky breaths. “Oh God…Bass.”

He’s busy worshipping her nipple with his tongue and teeth but stops and looks up, his gaze dark and reverent as it locks with hers.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he whispers.

And Charlie shudders.

Not from her dizzying arousal. Not even from the fact that the very man she’s spent her whole life wanting is here, with his face buried in her chest.

She shudders because of the unadulterated devotion she sees in his eyes. Shudders because of the pure sincerity that drips from his voice.

The realization is an all-consuming fire that starts not in the pit of her belly this time but in her heart: this isn’t just about sex anymore.

But right now, she can’t stop to analyze any of that. Right now, she’s certain she will die if he doesn’t get on with fucking her already.

“Need you inside. Now,” she pleads.

He smiles in understanding, then stands up. He kicks off his shoes, peels off his socks, drops his pants and boxers in one quick motion before kicking them out of the way, then yanks off Charlie’s tiny pair of black panties and tosses them behind him.

When they’re both fully exposed, Charlie props herself up onto her elbows and finally takes a moment to appreciate Bass Monroe in all his naked glory.

He is breathtaking – more magnificent than any fantasy she’s ever had. All hard, rippling muscles and tight, tanned skin and a thick, rigid cock that stands tall and proud and ready…for her.

She savors the view for as long as her aching body allows before pulling him down for a ravenous kiss while her hand darts down to grab his waiting shaft. He has the same idea and slides his fingers between her legs to stroke her swollen, sticky folds, and together they let out a symphony of muffled moans before Bass breaks the kiss, takes himself in hand, and lines himself up at her entrance.

Charlie anxiously watches as he teases her glistening slit with the bulbous head of his cock, coating himself in her warm juices.

“Please, Bass,” she begs just once before he pushes into her in one hard motion.

A sharp breath expels from her lungs, and she digs her blunt fingernails into the tops of his shoulders as the warm pleasure of his invasion consumes her.

“Fuck, Charlotte,” he grunts. “You are so fucking tight.”

She mewls in response, unable to form coherent words, while hitching her leg around his hip in an attempt to get closer and to better accommodate his size. She’s only been with a few other men before him, but none of them compare even slightly to the grandness that is Sebastian Monroe. He is huge and hard and reaches parts of her she never even knew were possible to reach.

He grabs her hips and digs his fingers into her sides before retreating, then plunging right back into her depths. He drives into her like a silken jackhammer, and she pushes her hips up, meeting each and every one of his movements till he’s slamming repeatedly into her cervix. It’s rough and punishing, and she’s sure she’ll be sore later, but she couldn’t care less. The erotic charge between them is intense and real and better than anything she’s ever experienced, and this – _this_ – Charlie decides, is what sex is supposed to feel like.

When Bass reaches between them and drags his thumb over her clit in quick, ruthless swipes, her entire body tenses. Her eyes slam shut as she shatters, writhing underneath him, screaming, while her hips jerk towards his in uncontrollable spasms. She comes harder than she ever has, every nerve in her body bursting with intoxicating pleasure, so deep and raw, that she takes him right along with her.

“That’s it. Just like that, sweetheart,” he purrs as he works her through each blissful contraction with several unrelenting thrusts, then pulls out at the last possible second and spills his hot seed all over her sweat-drenched thigh.

They collapse together, side by side, and take a moment to recompose themselves.

“Oh my God,” Charlie whispers, her body still buzzing in the afterglow. “That was….”

Bass smiles and leans over to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Better than you imagined I’d be? Tell me, Charlotte, did I just totally obliterate all your years of fantasizing about me?”

She gasps, pretending to be offended by his smugness and scandalized by his insinuation, then pushes her chin up and answers without a flinch, “Meh. I’ve had better.”

He snorts at her obvious lie, and soon they are both laughing.

Charlie sighs and props herself onto one elbow. Her other hand reaches up to brush across his chest, and she draws slow circles against his pectoral muscle.

Her head is still full of questions, but when she looks at him, his blue gaze warm and attentive as it connects with hers, she knows something deep - beyond just the physical - has transpired between them.

What it all means? Well, she’ll figure that out later.

She is toying with his sweaty curls while he presses tender kisses into her neck when the sound of her vibrating phone interrupts them.

“Don’t answer that,” Bass mumbles into her skin. “Stay here.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t need to be asked again. To hell with whoever’s on the phone.

It eventually stops ringing, but before either of them can verbally utter their relief, Bass’s phone starts to ring.

“Son of a bitch,” he gripes. “It’s probably Miles.”

“Probably,” Charlie giggles and reluctantly pushes him off of her before reaching for his jeans, which are lying on the floor next to her bed.

“No, what are you doing?” He whines as she pulls out the incessantly ringing device from his pocket. “I told you not to answer it.”

She sticks her tongue out at him and answers anyway. “Hi, Miles.”

“Charlie?” Miles pauses for a second. “Wait, didn’t I call—”

“Yeah, you did. But I knew it was you, so I answered Bass’s—phone!” She yelps the last part as the man in question grabs her and pins her down on the mattress again. “Stop that!” She barks out in a harsh whisper.

“What?” Miles sounds suspicious.

“Sorry, not you.” Charlie blushes. “Uh...we’re still at my dorm, but we’ll be back soon.”

She watches in aroused horror as Bass slithers down her body, parts her legs, and situates his smirking face in between them.

Oh God. He wouldn’t. Not while she’s on the phone…with her uncle. Would he?

“What are you doing?” She screeches when he licks his lips and pushes back the hood of her clit, his wolf-like gaze staying trained on hers.

“What?” He growls. “You can keep talking.”

“What the hell are you two idiots doing over there?” Miles demands, but his stern, if not slightly mortified tone tells Charlie that he has a pretty good idea.

“Nothing,” she says, her voice sounding thoroughly unconvincing even to her own ears, as Bass flicks his tongue across her clit. “We’re not— _nothing_!”

Bass chuckles into her wet sex and continues his hungry lapping, each punishing swipe of his tongue making it harder and harder for Charlie to concentrate on anything but the heat coiling in her core.

“Gotta go, bye!” She shrieks and tosses the phone aside without even properly disconnecting the call. She buries both hands in his hair and pulls when Bass adds one and then two fingers into her pussy and begins to pump in and out of her. “Fuck! Bass! Oh God, I’m gonna….”

“Jesus, you guys!” Miles’s muffled but unmistakably appalled voice rings through the tiny iPhone speaker once more before the call goes dead.

“You’re a… _terrible_ …person,” Charlie groans and gasps even while tugging Bass closer and bucking up into his wicked mouth.

“Don’t think you mean that.” He smiles into her heat, before giving her a few more sinful licks that send her plummeting over the edge.

She convulses against his merciless mouth, inner walls clutching around his fingers, before she splinters into a million wet pieces.

Her instincts scream at her to plot some sort of revenge, but her mind is a delirious mess at the moment, and she’s Matheson enough to know good payback requires her full attention. And right now, all she wants to do is melt into the mattress so she can recover from the earth-shattering orgasm that just rocked through her, which is exactly what she does as Bass pulls his mouth and fingers away from her hot skin and crawls back up her body, pressing wet kisses all along the way.

When he reaches her face, he laughs at her, and any other time, she’d have responded by spitting out a snarky remark, but at the moment, she is just too fucked to care.

“So, you gotta admit.” He leans down and peppers sweet little kisses all over her face. “That was…kinda fun.”

“I never said it wasn’t,” she replies, leaning up to meet his lips with her own. Then she lies back against her pillow and smirks at him. “But you know what else will be fun?”

“What?” He kisses the tip of her nose, then each of her eyebrows.

“When we go back to the house and Miles tries to kill you.”

As if on cue, Charlie’s phone buzzes again, this time from an incoming text message.

Bass groans and rolls off of her.

Charlie smiles as she climbs off the bed and walks across the room to retrieve her phone from her purse. When she pulls it out, she realizes the text is from Nora, not Miles as she had expected.

_Is it too soon to tell you I’m really happy for you guys? :D Sorry. Too awkward of a conversation to have with your aunt? Anyway, we’re going to bed. Left some cake in the fridge for you guys. Have a good night and come back in the morning for pancakes!_

Charlie breaks into an uncontrollable giggle after reading Nora’s message.

“What?” Bass sits up, chuckling, and reaches for his jeans and underwear.

“Well, Miles will probably want to kill you. Or both of us, most likely.” She tries to catch her breath. “But Nora is totally on board with...us.” She grins as it dawns on her that she and Bass Monroe are now an _us_.

“Oh yeah?” The grin on Bass’s face mirrors her own.

“Yeah.” Charlie nods and makes her way back to her bed. “She told us to have a good night and come back in the morning for pancakes.”

“I like pancakes,” Bass says as he drops his recently collected clothes to the floor again and instead takes each of Charlie’s hands in his.

“I do, too.” She straddles his waist and lets him pull her close, till she’s lying flush on top of him. “I also really like you.”

“Good. I like you, too. And I’ve got a few ideas that might show you just how much.”

“Please, be my guest.” She smiles and leans down to kiss him, her mind already spinning with a thousand delicious ways of exacting her revenge.

**\- THE END -**

 

 **A/N:** Thank you for sticking with me, and again, my sincerest apologies for the massive delay. I hope this final chap made up for the delay, though. This was a lot of fun to write (minus the writer's block part). And if you would, please leave a review! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a sec, please review. Reviews are most appreciated! Also, if you have ideas on any Charlie/Bass moments that you'd like to see, let me know. Thanks for reading! xoxo


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